


It Gets Higher, Day by Day

by thesleepingsatellite



Category: Glee
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-09
Updated: 2011-07-09
Packaged: 2017-10-21 20:21:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/229379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesleepingsatellite/pseuds/thesleepingsatellite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mercedes is shocked, <i>shocked</i>, that Santana rigged the Duets competition. But at least she gets a free meal out of it, right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Gets Higher, Day by Day

_**[GFS Exchange Fic] "It Gets Higher, Day by Day" by abluegirl for arishako**_  
 **Title:** It Gets Higher, Day by Day  
 **Author:** [](http://abluegirl.livejournal.com/profile)[**abluegirl**](http://abluegirl.livejournal.com/)  
 **Written For:** [](http://arishako.livejournal.com/profile)[**arishako**](http://arishako.livejournal.com/)  
 **Prompt:** Santana attempting to court and/or hook up with Mercedes after the two sing River Deep, Mountain High  
 **Pairing:** Santana/Mercedes  
 **Rating/Warnings:** PG-13  
 **Spoilers:** To "Duets"  
 **Wordcount:** 4000  
 **Summary:** Mercedes is shocked, _shocked_ , that Santana rigged the Duets competition. But at least she gets a free meal out of it, right?

  
Santana's voice came low and husky from beside her: "We've so got this."

Mercedes turned to smile at Santana, who was slouched in the chair beside her. Santana glanced at Mercedes from the corner of her eye as a sly smile crept across her face.

"Yeah, we've gotta pretty good chance," Mercedes agreed, holding her hand out for a slap.

She and Santana had met three times this past week to rehearse and choreograph their performance of _River Deep, Mountain High_ , and she felt good about their performance. Their vocals were solid, and their voices blended surprisingly well considering the differences in their vocal styles. The energetic dance moves that they had worked out felt like an aerobics routine, but she had to admit that they matched the song's energy and vibrancy.

Not only that, working with Santana had been _fun_. Santana had a wicked, dark sense of humour that Mercedes appreciated, and they had discovered a shared love of tacky reality television shows. Thought they weren't what Mercedes would describe as _friends_ , she did feel that they had developed an understanding and appreciation of each other. Still, Mercedes didn't hold any illusions that their working relationship would change appreciably after this week was over – her experience with Quinn had taught her that – but it was nice to get a glimpse of the girl underneath the tough-as-nails exterior.

"Okay, Santana and Mercedes, you're up!" Mr. Schue called from the front of the room. Santana turned to her and grinned wickedly before rising gracefully out of the chair to saunter down to the front of the room. Mercedes followed, breathing deeply as she prepared to send her powerful voice soaring throughout the room.

Performing _River Deep, Mountain High_ turned out to be exhilarating. Mercedes felt in sync with Santana and, with all eyes on the them as they strutted their stuff at the front of the room, she felt _sexy_. She felt the music fill her veins with fire and she pictured it being released from her body as she belted the lyrics out. She knew Santana felt it, too – Santana was a tight coil of energy beside her, moving to the beat in rapid staccato, her ponytail swinging in time to the music. As they stood with their backs to the class, shaking their behinds, Santana looked at her sidelong from under her lashes, that mischievous smile gracing her features once more. And, at the end of their performance, a sense of triumph washed over her as she slapped her hand against Santana's in a celebratory high-five.

 _Yeah, we got this,_ Mercedes thought as she settled back down in her seat. _We be going' to Breadstix for sure._

\---

"Well," Mr. Schue announced after tabulating the votes. "it looks like just everyone voted for themselves, even those who didn't compete," he said, looking pointedly at Brittany. Brittany smiled brightly and sat up taller in her seat. "But it seems as though we have a tie."

Nervous chatter filled the air, and Mr. Schue cleared his throat before continuing. " So, I will cast the deciding vote. The leaders are Sam and Quinn, and Mercedes and Santana."

"Finn!" Rachel exclaimed in a harsh whisper, drawing Mercedes attention to where she and Finn were seated in the front row. Mercedes frowned when Rachel viciously elbowed Finn in the ribs, a look out outrage upon her face – something was definitely up with those two.

"Ow!" Finn hissed back, rubbing his side. "What?"

Mercedes felt Santana's fingers thread through hers to squeeze tightly. She turned to Santana to find her watching Finn and Rachel with that wicked smile upon her face.

Mercedes leaned in towards her to speak in a hushed tone. "What did you do?"

Santana's smile morphed into a smirk, and she tossed her ponytail dismissively. "Me, oh I didn't do anything." She looked sidelong at Mercedes and winked. "At least not anything I can talk about right now."

Mercedes frowned, and looked from Santana to where Rachel was berating Finn in furious, hushed tones. "You really do live up to your nickname, don't you? Seriously, what did you do?"

"Just shut for now, okay Wheezy?" Santana rolled her eyes. "I'll tell you when we're celebrating at Breadstix?"

Mercedes withdrew her hand to fold her arms over her chest, unsatisfied. "You better," she said softly.

"What's up with her?" Kurt's hushed voice came from behind her.

She turned to face him. "I don't even know. Apparently I get to find out _if_ we win."

"Oh, you'll win. You were way better than the blondies over there," he said, nodding towards Sam and Quinn.

"Guys! Guys! Settle down there," Mr. Schue called from the front of the room. "Both teams' performances were excellent. Sam and Quinn, I felt that your rendition of _Lucky_ was nuanced and lovely. You seem to have a wonderful rapport and your voices complement each other very well. Sam, your guitar playing was excellent, and it was a nice touch to have Quinn play with you for a while."

Mercedes looked over to Sam and Quinn to see Sam nodding, a smug smile on his face. _He's overconfident_ , she thought. _New boy's about to get knocked down a few._

"Santana and Mercedes," Mr. Schue continued, "were on fire. The two of you obviously practiced your vocals and dance routine a great deal during this past week, and it showed. You played off each other very well and engaged not only the audience but the band as well. Your performance had the kind of high energy dynamic that's going to win us Regionals, and I hope that you two can keep it up. And for that reason, I've decided to award the dinner for two at Breadstix to… Santana and Mercedes!"

Santana squealed with delight, her feet tapping in a rapid drumbeat on the floor before she got up out of her chair to run down and grab the gift certificate out of Mr. Schue's hands. Mercedes followed, unable to keep the grin off her face as she took her place beside Santana.

"Yeah, girlfriend," Santana said, turning to her for a high five. "We be going to Breadstix!"

As Santana jumped and hollered beside her, Kurt scampered to the front of the room to grab her hands, jumping excitedly. "I'm so glad you won – you get to go to Breadstix! And with Satan!" Santana stopped mid-twirl to glare at him. "I mean, Santana, yay!" he finished, weakly.

Santana resumed strutting and posturing, and Mercedes clutched Kurt's hand, wondering just what it was that she had gotten herself into.

\---

Mercedes checked her watch. It was 7:20 on Friday night, and Santana was 20 minutes late. She'd spent her time examining the décor (understated, casual, not too tacky), playing with the jug of breadsticks (which were the longest breadsticks she'd ever seen), smiling nervously at other patrons (only a few of whom looked at her pityingly) and reviewing the menu (about five times). A woman could only take so much waiting, and she was starting to get impatient.

She checked her iPhone for messages. Nothing. She checked her Facebook. Nothing. She rested her chin on her hands and sighed, wondering how the guys that Santana dated put up with her chronic lateness.

Mercedes snorted, amused that she had just compared her dinner with Santana to a date. Because it definitely was not a date. For one, she didn't even really like Santana. They weren't friends, not really. They were more like antagonistic colleagues who grudgingly respected each other's talents. Besides, she wasn't into girls in the first place – she definitely liked guys. Like that cutie in her math class. Or that tall guy with the floppy hair in her English class. Or even that new kid, Sam, though he seemed to be into Quinn just like everybody else.

She was definitely not into slim, fiery brunette girls who could dance circles around her.

Mercedes shook herself, moving her glazed eyes away from the screen of her phone to the front door, resolving to give Santana five more minutes before she called it a night.

Four and a half minutes of idling going through twitter updates passed before a breezy "Yeah, I know I'm late!" came from in front of her. She looked up to see Santana sashaying toward their table. "I had a thing," she said, gesturing dismissively.

Mercedes frowned as Santana slid into the booth across from her. "You had a thing." She stated flatly.

"Yeah. A Cheerios thing?" Santana said, flipping her ponytail and looking at Mercedes with incredulity "Don't you remember Coach Sylvester's Friday night practices? I swear she wants to go as late into date night as she possibly can. Seriously, what a bitch. Just because she doesn't have a social life doesn't mean the rest of us stay home at night."

"Oh, right," Mercedes said with a smile, because she did remember. Not that she had any dates to miss in the first place, of course, so she hadn't ever minded those late practices on Friday night. If this was a date – and it definitely was not a date – this would be her first one. "That explains why you're still wearing your uniform, I guess."

"Yeah," Santana looking down as she smoothed out her skirt. "Plus, it gives me all sorts of extra attention when I'm out. Like now." She turned to smile up at the waiter who had appeared at their table.

"Hey Jason, how you doin' today?" she leered up at him.

"Oh hi, Santana!" The dorky looking waiter with glasses and acne smiled down at him. "It's great to see you back. I'll get your drink order then bring some fresh breadsticks to your table right away. Those ones there have been out for a few days."

"Thanks babe," Santana cooed before looking down at her menu. "I'll have a coke."

"And you, miss?"

Mercedes smiled nervously up at the waiter. "An iced tea, please."

"Coming right up," he said, tucking his pencil behind his ear.

"So how's Cheerios practice going?" Mercedes asked.

"Fucking awful," Santana snarled. "Sylvester still has me on the bottom of the pyramid, and my knees are really starting to hurt. I have grass stains on them and I'm pretty sure I have permanent knee imprints in my back, too."

Mercedes frowned. "That's too bad. How long's she planning in keeping this up for?"

"Until she's decided I've been punished enough. Which'll be, like, never." Santana rolled her eyes.

Their drinks and a fresh jug of breadsticks arrived at the table. Santana reached for a stick and snapped off a bite before closing her eyes in pleasure. She moaned softly as she chewed and the waiter made a low noise that seemed to come from the back of his throat.

"Um, Santana?" Mercedes looked from Jason to Santana, who had her eyes closed as if in bliss. How the girl got so much satisfaction out of hard baked bread products, Mercedes would never know.

Santana opened her eyes and focused her gaze on Mercedes. "What?"

"I think Jason here wants to take our order."

Jason cleared his throat. "Um, yeah," he said, slack jawed. "Santana, what'll you be having?"

"Oh, my usual," she said, passing him the menu.

"Hell's Kitchen Chicken?"

Santana smiled approvingly and nodded. "That's the one!"

"And you, miss?"

Mercedes scanned the menu quickly, and decided. "I'll have the scallop carbonara," she said, folding the menu to hand it back to Jason to find that his eyes were locked on Santana once more as she drew a breadstick across her lips.

"Here you go," she said firmly, amused that his attention didn't waver from where Santana was gazing up at him from under lowered lashes.

"Oh!" Jason said, blushing as he took the menu from her. He hurried away, holding the menus in front of his hips awkwardly.

She turned back to Santana. "Why do you do that?"

Santana smirked and held her hand up to examine her nails. "Do what?"

"Oh come on, girl. You know what I'm talking about. Why do you mess with guys like that?"

"Because I can?" Santana grinned, showing all her teeth. "Because it gets me free food and it makes me feel good. Sometimes I need a bit of a ego boost, you know?"

"I think your ego is doing just fine on its own," Mercedes stated, looking Santana up and down. "I mean really, you have pretty much every guy in school lusting after you."

"Well maybe that's not what I want, okay?" Santana said sharply, meeting Mercedes eyes for a split second before she turned to dig in her purse.

"Ohhhh-kay." Mercedes said, thrown. She played with her straw and took a sip of her iced tea before settling on another topic of conversation. "So. You said you'd tell me what it is that you did."

Santana turned back to her, brandishing a nail file. "What I did when?"

Mercedes rolled her eyes. "Yesterday in Glee, you said you'd tell me what you did because you couldn't talk about it then. You didn't rig the duets competition, did you?"

"What?" Santana looked affronted and paused in her filing. "No! Of course I didn't. We won fair and square."

"Yeah right. And I'm the Queen of England. Seriously, girl, what did you do? Not that I'm minding the free trip to Breadstix, but if I'm party to cheating, I'd like to know, you know?"

Santana snickered and relented. "Fine. I blackmailed somebody into voting for us."

"It was Finn, wasn't it?"

Santana paused filing her index finger, and shrugged, before looking up at Mercedes. "Sure was. I've got some really good dirt on him that he wouldn't want a certain hobbit to find out."

Mercedes narrowed her eyes. "She seemed really upset at him, yesterday, too. Almost like she knew that he was the one that had voted for us."

Santana shrugged. "Maybe she did. Not my problem."

"Well it is if she finds out that you blackmailed him."

"Please," Santana said, gesturing with the file. "Manhands I can handle. I live near Lima Heights and I know how to fight dirty, okay?"

"You keep telling yourself that, girl. You live in my neighbourhood and your dad is a doctor. You're about as ghetto as Kim Kardashian." Mercedes rolled her eyes bit into a breadstick. She had to admit that it was the best breadstick she'd ever had in her life – nice and crisp and not too dry. "So what do you have on Finn, anyway?"

A sly grin spread across Santana's face. "Let's just say he might have lost a certain something when he was hanging out with me one night a while back."

Mercedes drew back, shocked. "You did not sleep with him."

"I'm pretty sure there wasn't any sleeping involved," Santana said, smirking. She leaned forward and looked Mercedes in the eye. "I fucked him, okay? Then, he took me out for burgers, that believe me, they were much better than the sex. You could barely even call that boy a minute man."

"Are you serious? Do you know what kind of shit you'd get into if Rachel ever found out?"

Santana leaned back and crossed her arms over her chest, moving her head from side to side like a Cobra getting ready to strike. "Why are you acting like it was all my doing? Finn was there too. And besides, it was when she was dating that Jesse kid last year. Finn was fair game. He just _really_ doesn't want her to find out that he and I did the deed, and that gives me an awesome advantage."

"You mean it gives you blackmail material."

"Whatever you want to call it, Wheezy. It got us to Breadstix, didn't it?"

Mercedes frowned. "I guess. Though I wish we had won fair and square."

Santana shrugged, and reached for a breadstick. "Mr. Schue said our performance was the best one, that's good enough for me. There's no other way we would have won, since pretty much everybody voted for themselves."

"Except they didn't. Somebody else voted for Sam and Quinn. And I think it was Rachel," Mercedes tapped the tip of her breadstick against her temple. "That's the part I don't get."

"Why would she do that?" Santana asked, waving her breadstick in midair.

"I dunno. It almost seemed that she and Finn threw the competition. I mean, what were they thinking with that performance? It was beyond _awkward_."

"I know, right?" Santana exclaimed. "I mean, it takes a lot to shock me and I'm not even a practicing Catholic any more, and even I thought it was offensive. Like, really offensive."

"Ugh. See, this is what I'm talking about. They did it on purpose. Do you think Rachel wanted Sam and Quinn to win?"

Santana shrugged. "I guess so. I still don't get why."

At that moment, Jason appeared beside their table with food. "Here you go, ladies," he said, setting Santana's food down in front of her. She sighed happily and spread her napkin over her lap.

"I guess that it will have to remain one of the undiscovered mysteries of Rachel Berry then," Mercedes said, tucking into her food.

\---

"So," Santana said over desert, arching one perfectly sculpted eyebrow. "Do you put out on the first date?"

Mercedes looked up from her chocolate cake in astonishment. "This is not a date. What gave you that idea?"

Santana shrugged nonchalantly and dug her fork into her apple pie. "It's dinner at Breadstix. I've gotten used to getting my mack on after eating here, you know?"

Mercedes shook her head and wrinkled her nose. "No, I wouldn't know, actually." She stabbed her cake and lifted a large forkful of it to her mouth. "Never even kissed anybody."

A pitying expression crossed Santana's face, and she drew back, aghast. "Wait. What. Seriously? You've never kissed anybody? I thought you dated Puckerman last year."

"Nope," Mercedes said, giving a wistful smile. "These lips are virgin lips. Puck and I only ever hung out in his basement and played video games." She rolled her eyes. "With his history, there was no way I was letting that boy near my lips."

"I gotta say, I think you really missed out. He totally knows what to do with his mouth." A half smile crept across Santana's face. "Among other things."

"Seriously, are you kidding me? That boy is the cheesiest douchebag I have ever met. And I've met a lot of douchebags."

Santana leaned forward, closing the space between them. "Anyway," she said conspiratorially. "So you've never been kissed. We could change that tonight, you know, if you want to."

Mercedes looked at Santana, glancing down hesitantly toward her lips and thought that Santana that she actually seemed sincere in her desire to kiss her, which was unexpected to say the least. "Um, it's sweet of you to offer. But I don't think so."

"Oh, come on," Santana wheedled, looking up at Mercedes through thick lashes as she toyed with her fork. Mercedes gulped and drew back, unnerved to find herself the focus of Santana's attention. "I saw you lookin' at me when we were rehearsing."

Mercedes felt her cheeks warm, because of course she had looked. Who wouldn't? During their rehearsals, Santana had dressed in short skirts and skimpy tank tops and it had been hard not to look at her. Santana was a beautiful girl with a harsh personality and Mercedes told herself that she could appreciate her objectively without being attracted to her.

"Santana," she began carefully. "I like guys, okay? And I'm waiting for the right guy to come along so I can have a perfect first kiss with him. You know, the kind that you read about in romance novels or see in the movies. The kind of kiss that makes your toes curl."

Santana rolled her eyes and settled back on her side of the booth. "Well, isn't that just sweet. Tell me, why can't your amazing, perfect first kiss be with a girl?"

Mercedes reached across the table to rest her hand on Santana's arm. "Really? We're barely even friends. I mean, I like you well enough, but I want my first kiss to mean something, you know?"

"Well, your loss. This is a one-time offer, you know." Santana scooped the last bit of her apple pie with her fork. "I don't get it, though," she said through a mouth of pie.

"Get what?" Mercedes asked, confused.

"Why nobody has wanted to kiss you yet." She gestured at Mercedes with her fork. "I mean, you're pretty and have attitude to spare. And besides the new kid, you've got the best lips for kissing I've ever seen."

Mercedes felt herself flush. "Well, it's a good thing not too many other people recognize and understand what a hottie I am; otherwise we'd have a sex riot on our hands."

Santana grinned. "That's for damned sure." She pushed her plate away, and then craned her neck, looking for their waiter. "Hey, Jason!" she called. "Get your ass over here!"

"Hush!" Mercedes hissed, looking around to see other patrons eyeing Santana disapprovingly. Jason appeared at the table holding the bill in one hand and an unopened packet of breadsticks in the other hand.

"Gimme the sticks, and forget about the bill, " Santana said, pulling the gift certificate out of her bag to wave it in the air. "This one's on Mr. Schue."

She handed it to Jason, who examined it briefly before saying, "Sure, that looks okay. You have a great night, Santana. Hope to see you here again real soon."

"Oh you know you will," Santana said, winking coquettishly before she grabbed the bag of breadsticks out of Jason's hand. She stuffed it into her purse then turned to Mercedes. "You ready to go?"

"I guess," Mercedes said, gathering her belongings before sliding out of the booth.

The air of the autumn night was cool when it hit her skin upon exiting the restaurant, and Mercedes wrapped her arms around herself, regretting her decision not to bring a jacket.

"You drive here?" Santana asked.

"Yeah, I brought my mom's car."

Santana nodded. "'Kay. I was gonna see if you wanted a ride home otherwise."

Mercedes smiled, surprised at the sudden consideration that Santana was showing. "Thanks anyway, though. I guess I'll see you in Glee on Monday."

"Sure," Santana nodded. She paused and looked Mercedes up and down before seeming to come to a decision. She drew closer to place a hand on Mercedes arm, grinning lasciviously. "You know, if this was a date, I'd totally go in for a kiss right about now."

Mercedes eyes widened and she felt her heart beat harder within her chest. While she didn't want her first kiss to be with Santana of all people, she'd be lying if she said the idea wasn't a little bit appealing. It wasn't every day that one of the hottest girls in school took an interest in her. "Oh yeah?" She said breathlessly.

"Yeah," Santana said as she crowded closer. "But as I said, that was a one time offer, so I guess you'll just have to settle for this."

Mercedes drew in a breath as Santana pressed her body against Mercedes, winding her arms around her neck. Santana was warm and soft and she smelled sweet and faintly sweaty. Mercedes closed her eyes reflexively as Santana drew closer and was surprised by the soft press of lips against her cheek.

Then, the contact was gone, and she felt colder in the night air than she had moments before. She opened her eyes to see Santana already walking away from her.

"Night, Wheezy," Santana called over her shoulder. Mercedes watched her go for a minute, before digging her keys out of her purse. She shook her head as she walked to the opposite side of the parking lot, wondering just what kind of alternate universe she'd fallen into.

Wherever it was, it seemed like a good place to be.


End file.
